4. Cara
CARA
Cara Bailey pushed her way through the glass door that led from the elevator lobby to the office floor of Ward & Wellington Public Relations, juggling two cardboard carriers of coffee in her hands and her purse slung over her shoulder.
This was a task that hadn’t gotten any easier, despite the fact that she had been doing it for a year now.
She would have thought she might have gotten the hang of it by now, learned how to balance everything she was required to carry multiple times a day without so much trouble.
But she always felt as if she was going to drop the coffee and send it spilling everywhere, even though that hadn’t happened to her so far.
She made it as far as the reception desk and set the coffee down. Jocelyn looked up from her computer and grinned. “Made it again, I see.”
“One of these days, this is going to end in disaster, though,” Cara sighed, raking her fingers through her strawberry blond hair.
She had spent hours that morning styling it, creating a professional-looking blowout, but running around town to get these coffees had caused the look to turn frizzy, just as it always did.
One of these days she was going to learn this lesson and start going with an updo every day.
She plucked out one of the coffees. “It was an iced coffee with oat milk, right?”
“Thanks,” Jocelyn said gratefully, taking the drink. “I don’t know how I’d get through the day without the afternoon coffee run, Cara. I have so many invoices to organize.”
Cara chuckled. “At least you have real work to do,” she said. “I’m probably going to end up spending the afternoon reorganizing the kitchen or something.”
Jocelyn made a sympathetic noise with her tongue. “They’re going to let you start taking on clients any day now,” she said. “You were hired to be a PR consultant. Everyone knows that’s what you’re here for.”
“I was hired at the same time as Jacob, and he has three personal clients already,” Cara said.
Jocelyn’s mouth twisted to one side in sympathy. “We know why that is,” she said.
Cara nodded. Neither of them would say it aloud here in the office, but they did know.
The firm’s partnership was all-male, and men were always promoted and entrusted with responsibility more quickly than women were.
Cara knew she was ready for more complicated work than daily coffee runs, but nobody else seemed to be aware of that yet, and she had no idea how long it would take before they gave her a chance.
She picked up her coffee trays again. “Is everyone in their offices?”
“Yes,” Jocelyn said. “I’d offer to help you pass those out, but I can’t leave the phone. But if you want to leave one of the trays here and come back for it, feel free.”
Cara gave her a grateful smile. “I would, but you know someone will read into it,” she said.
“Everyone is going to start questioning where their drink is the moment they see me, and the only thing that will keep them from getting offended at having to wait is if they see that my hands are full.” She balanced both trays carefully and turned away from the reception desk to make her way to the senior partner’s office.
Alastair Ward would be wanting his drink.
Before she could take a step in that direction, though, she was almost knocked over by a man she didn’t recognize.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with curly blond hair and an expression of rage on his face, and he pushed past her as if she was nothing more significant than a swinging door.
She stumbled back into Jocelyn’s desk, the trays of coffee wobbling in her arms, and just barely managed to set them down in time.
“Who was that?” she managed.
Jocelyn was staring after the man. “Liam Sims,” she murmured. “He doesn’t usually come in to the office.”
“Liam who?”
“You’ve heard of him. He’s the star receiver for the Miami Stingers.”
She hadn’t heard of him. She was pretty sure the Miami Stingers were a football team—it wasn’t a sport Cara took a lot of interest in. “He’s a client here?”
“Yes. Alastair manages him directly, and they usually don’t meet in the office.”
That was apparent. Liam Sims had halted his charge and was standing in the middle of the office floor, looking around as though he had no idea where he was supposed to go.
“Ward!” he demanded.
Cara left the coffees on Jocelyn’s desk and hurried forward, feeling that someone needed to step in. “You’re looking for Alastair Ward?”
He stared at her. “Who are you? His secretary?”
She tried not to let that get to her too much. There was no reason for this man to know who she was. “I can take you to his office,” she said. “Do you have an appointment?”
“I don’t need an appointment,” he said. “I’m Liam Sims.”
“Well, everyone has to have an appointment,” Cara said. “Why don’t you take a seat on the visitors’ couch right over there, and I’ll go speak to Mr. Ward and see if he’s able to take a meeting?”
Sims glared at her. “You can just tell him that I’m in an emergency situation and I expect him to get out here right now,” he said.
“I don’t have time to screw around. He’s my PR representative, so he should already be aware of what’s been going on with me.
He should have contacted me this morning. ”
Cara swallowed hard. She had never seen anyone react like this before. “I’ll go and get him,” she said. “Sit down, please…”
But before she had time to turn for the door, it opened and Alastair came hurrying out.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded, looking from Sims to Cara.
“Mr. Sims just arrived—” she began.
He held up a hand and turned to Sims. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, you should already know.” Sims looked lost for words for a moment. “Or haven’t you been paying attention to the news this morning? Don’t you know what’s been going on? I have major damage control to do, Ward.”
“Oh, I’ve seen what was in the news,” Alastair said. “I have to tell you, I was expecting a phone call, not for you to come charging in.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Sims said. “What are you going to do for me?”
Cara glanced at Jocelyn, who was watching with wide eyes. Just how important was this man? Alastair was usually pretty serious about not meeting with anyone who didn’t have an appointment. It was a rule she’d seen him break on only a handful of occasions. Would he do it now?
Alastair was looking Sims up and down. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ve got an opening in my schedule at four. If you’d like to come back then, we can talk things over and see what we can do.”
“You know I can’t wait until then,” Sims snapped.
“I can’t afford to sit around and let this situation spiral even more out of control than it already has.
I’ve lost my position on the team. I can’t lose anything else, so I need to know how we’re going to take control of the narrative, and I need to know it right now.
So here’s what’s going to happen—you’re going to take me into that office of yours, we’re going to sit down, and we’re going to put together a plan. Right now.”
The entire office had gone quiet. Cara had never heard anybody speak to Alastair like that before. Who did this man think he was?
Alastair’s eyes were narrowed. “Frankly, I’m not sure you’re in any position to be giving out orders right now,” he said. “Based on everything I’ve read today, you need us a whole lot more than we need you. I’ve been thinking of terminating our relationship.”
Sims’ face went white.
“I’m not going to do that,” Alastair said. “But you can’t just waltz in here and demand a meeting with a senior partner. So this is what we’re going to do: I’m going to let you sit down with one of our junior associates, someone who has time for this sort of thing.”
That would be Jacob, Cara knew. She scanned the office floor, wondering where he was. It would probably fall to her to arrange a conference room for the two of them, and she might be sent out on yet another coffee run to ensure that Sims had what he wanted.
“Cara,” Alastair said.
“Yes?” She stepped forward, already thinking about which conference room might be available for the rest of the afternoon.
“Take Mr. Sims into a meeting room,” Alastair said. “Find out what he needs and come up with a plan to help him do damage control on his image.”
For a moment, Cara was sure she had misunderstood. “You want me to work with him?”
“You want her to work with me?” Sims echoed, looking Cara up and down. “Who is this girl? I came in here to talk to you, Ward.”
“Well, I’m not available,” Alastair said evenly. “You can’t just walk in here and demand my time whenever you want, and particularly not after you’ve stirred up a massive controversy, as you did last night.”
Cara looked at Jocelyn again. What had this man done?
This was going to be her very first assignment—if indeed it remained hers—and she already felt in over her head.
How was she supposed to come up with a plan to rehabilitate his image if he was such a disaster that it had driven him to come into the office without an appointment and insist on being seen right away?
But then again… Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it’s an opportunity to prove myself.
It was obvious that Alastair saw Sims as too much trouble to be worth bothering about.
That meant this was going to be difficult, but it also meant that if Cara could manage to help him, she would go a long way toward proving herself as good at what she did.
Alastair would have to acknowledge that she was good at this, and maybe she would be permanently reassigned from coffee runs to something a little more engaging.
Maybe she would get clients of her own moving forward, and not just the people Alastair didn’t want to deal with.
She lifted her chin, determined to do well at this. “Will you come with me please, Mr. Sims?” she asked. “I think conference room B is open right now.” She glanced over her shoulder, realizing she had left the coffees on the reception desk.
Jocelyn was grinning at her. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Jacob will be back from lunch in a moment, and he can deal with these.”
That would infuriate Jacob. Cara found the idea appealing. “All right, come on then,” she said to Sims.
He looked as if he was about to put up an argument about it, but Alastair was already walking back to his office, clearly ready to assume that the whole thing was being handled.
Sims had no choice but to follow Cara, and after a moment, he did, though he looked intensely angry about it.
She could see that he was unhappy with the way things had gone.
A part of her was nervous—what would happen when they stopped walking and were forced to converse with one another?
I can handle him. This is the challenge Alastair gave me. It’s a chance to prove I’m up to this, and I am up to it. No matter what Liam Sims has gotten himself into, no matter how tough a client he is…I know I can manage him.